its glass, retains for me a sort of old-time charm which I cherish. The
little St. Hermangardes, whom I have not seen for many years, and who
are now attached to an embassy somewhere in the Orient, would
doubtless, should they read this, be much astonished to learn what value
circumstances has given to their little present.




CHAPTER LVII.



The chief event of these winters, so poisoned by my college life, was
the gift-giving festival that we had at New Year.

At about the end of November it was our custom, my sister's, Lucette's
and mine, to make out a list of the things we desired most. Everybody in
the two families prepared surprises for us, and the mystery surrounding
these gifts was our most exquisite pleasure during the last days of the
year. Between parents, grandmother and aunts there occurred, to excite
my curiosity still further, conversations full of mysterious hints, and
whisperings that were hastily discontinued as soon as I appeared.

Between Lucette and me it became a real guessing game. As in the play of
"Words with a double meaning," we had the right to ask certain pointed
questions,--for example we asked the most ridiculous ones, such as: "Has
it hair like an animal?"

And the answers went something after this fashion: